Gregor the Overlander: Virginia
by Rotting Hood
Summary: Gregors worst fear has occurred. Upon leaving the Underland, probably forever, Gregors mother immediately demanded that the family move to Virginia, and, much to Gregors displeasure, they did. Gregor is now trying to live as normal a life as he can, but that seems to be impossible for this poor, scarred, and utterly depressed soul. -ALL RIGHTS GO TO SUZAIN COLLINS-
1. Reliving Nightmares

Gregor woke with a sweat. He looked at the alarm-clock and saw that it read _3:33 A.M._ He would have to arrive at school in five hours and twenty-seven minutes for his first day of High School, at King's Fork High School. Lizzie attended King's Fork _Middle_ School, and Boots went to Northern Shores Elementary. Suddenly, the dream Gregor had been having, flooded into his head. He had been dreaming about the Underland, again. Well, it was more of a nightmare than a dream. Gregor shuddered as he recalled the horrendous events that had transpired during his sleep. He had been having nightmares like this one often.

 _He was walking down the halls of the Castle of Regalia, ready to take flight with Ares, and soar above the majestic city of stone. Gregor had to admit, the Underland really was a beautiful place. When Gregor finally reached the High Hall, he called out for Ares. Surprisingly, the High Hall was empty. It was usually full of life, and it was quite unnerving to see it empty. Gregor yelled for Ares again, wondering where he could be. Ares was not one to be late, and Gregor was extremely curious as to what was holding the bat up. He would ask about it when Ares arrived, if ever. Eventually, after roughly one whole hour of shouting and waiting, and when Gregor was just about to give up on his futile efforts of calling Ares, his bond showed up._

 _"Where were you?!" Gregor asked, a bit harsher than he had intended, while climbing onto Ares. Ares did make him wait for quite a while, though._

 _"I am deeply sorry Gregor, I became distracted doing a few, other things." Ares purred, although there was a small edge in his voice._

 _"Like what?" Gregor demanded._

 _"Please. Do not take that tone with me, Gregor. You know how I hate orders." Ares replied, a little rudely. Okay, this was strange. Ares was NEVER rude. Granted, Gregor was also being a bit of jerk himself, but he was still upset Ares had made him wait such a long time._

 _"Hey! Be a bit nicer, would you? It's not like I'm actually ordering you around, I just asked a question!" Gregor replied, rather steamed._

 _"I said, Do Not Take That Tone With Me, Overlander!" Ares started raising his voice, which was still quiet, though, for he naturally had an extremely low, deep voice._

 _I replied in an extremely sarcastic voice, "Oh. Ok then. Ok my lord, why don't you get on my back, and I can carry you! Your highness!" I purposefully called him a royal women._

 _"I knew I should have saved Henry instead of you! You think of me as some pet, do you not?!" This was getting out of hand! Gregor being compared to HENRY! Things did not look good. Gregor needed to apologize, and he knew it._

 _"Woah! You know thats not true, and I don't mean it like that! Ares you are in no way a pet, but I would appreciate it if you weren't so ru-" Gregor started, but Ares didn't let him finish. Instead, he bucked Gregor off his back, saying only five words, as he watched Gregors fall to his death on the rocks below. But those five were enough to make Gregors heart shrivel up and die inside._

 _"You . . . are not my bond."_

 _And with that, Gregors body was torn apart by the jagged spikes of stone, jutting out from the terrain below._

Gregor slowly relived these agonizing scenes his brain had formed, as he sat on his bed - one of the few things that could fit in his room. Upon traveling to Virginia, Gregors family had moved in with Gregors Uncle Mike (his mothers brother), who was, fortunately, the only inhabitant of the huge house he owned, which was right next to his barn and stables as well. How Uncle Mike could afford this, Gregor had no idea, but was thankful for the space nonetheless. Well, the space didn't happen to be one of the best traits of Uncle Mikes home, located in the more rural area of Suffolk, Virginia. Located exactly 7.5 miles out of town, in fact!

Gregor had a relatively large family of four, five if you count Uncle Mike, but there were only three bedrooms, yet for some reason five bathrooms. He says _four_ family members, for Grandma had passed away a week after Gregor had returned to the surface, forever, and a week before Gregor had moved to Virginia, forever. Because of the few rooms, and the not-so-few people, it took a while for the rooming to be arranged. Uncle Mike had a room and a bathroom to himself. The same for his parents; a room and a bathroom. Also the same for Lizzie and Boots, they shared a bathroom and a regular room as well. That left Gregor with his own washroom, but also left him with the tiny attic for a room. The final bathroom was shared.

There was plenty of height in the attic, Gregor could jump up from his bed and he _still_ wouldn't be able touch the ceiling, and he was six feet tall! The problem was the width and length . . . there was none. His bed, dresser, and desk took up four-fifths of the "room," so he had to practically crawl over everything to reach the door. It was very claustrophobic, and uncannily similar to the dungeon Solovet had threw him in. It was also the dungeon he had placed Lux - _"No!"_ Gregor thought to himself. It hurt too much to think about her. He could already feel the tears coming to his eyes. He quickly wiped them away, and returned to his emotionless self. Gregor had not cried, or displayed any form of emotion for nearly four years. Because three years, eleven months, and twenty-two days ago, was the day he left the Underland. For good.

Gregor quickly averted his thoughts back to the attic.

The two nice things about the attic were, one: The Privacy. And two: The window in the corner, that lead onto the roof of the house. Some nights, when the pain was too much, Gregor would crawl through the window, and look out at the beautiful, starry sky. One of the few good qualities of Virginia. The alarm-clock now read 3:56 A.M. Gregor decided to get ready for school.

He monkey-crawled over his obstacle-course of a bedroom, and traveled to the bathroom he "owned." Gregor stripped off his clothes and stared at himself in the full-body mirror, and his first thought was of how he looked like a human map. Of his adventures, of course. Ranging from thin, silver lines quilting his arms and legs, to squid-sucker marks on his left bicep, to rat-claw and ant-pincher marks on his thighs, shins, and so much more, nothing was as bad as the five, jagged lines of the Banes claws, permanently etched onto his torso. The Bane was a giant, white rat, at least sixteen feet tall, and had nearly killed Gregor. Although Ares, Gregors bond, was not so lucky.

If you are bonded with a bat, or a "Flier," as the Regalians say, then you and that flier are sworn to fight to the death for each other. Gregor could still remember his exact words when he bonded to Ares.

 _Ares the Flier I Bond to You,  
Our Life and Death are One, We Two,  
In Dark, in Flame, in War, in Strife,  
I Save You as I Save my Life._

Gregor gave a depressing sigh to mimic his personality, and hopped into the shower. Other than the Underland, and the playlist Gregor had spent years creating, the one thing Gregor loved more than anything in the world, including his parents, was showers. He loved how the hot water seemed to strip you of all of your pain and stress, and flush it down the drain. How you can forget all of your worries and troubles, as long as you are contained in the warm water of the shower.

After Gregor had rinsed off and dried, he went to fetch some clothes. Gregor didn't give a cows behind about fashion, but he was forced to wear long sleeved shirts and pants, because of his hideous scars. It wasn't so bad in the Winter or Fall, but in late Spring and Summer, he felt like he was being roasted alive. Although you could never tell by just looking at his face. It was _always,_ emotionless.

Also, Gregor refused to wear anything that was not of the following colors and/or color schemes: Clothes the color of Forest Green, Navy Blue, Prussian Blue, Crimson, Puke Green, BrickRed, Black, Grey, Light Brown, Brown, Dark Brown, or Dark Grey, accompanied by a collared jacket of the same color scheme, or Underland Clothes, which were sadly unavailable to him.

Finally, after all was done and done, Gregor left a note on the fridge for his family, telling them he had head for school, and then, with only a water, his backpack & supplies, an apple, and his headphones & Ipod (which contained his 456 song playlist, of course) Gregor set for the 7.7 mile trek to school. To a new and exciting adventure (aka depressing and painful torture). To his first day, at King's Fork High School.

 _ **AUTHORS NOTE:**_

 _ **So, whadd'ya think? Not too shabby for my first FanFic, eh? Just a heads-up, not all chapters will be this length. Some might be shorter, others longer. It depends on my mood. Sometimes I'll just want to quickly finish a chapter, other times I will want to go heavy with detail and make the chapter twice as long as this one. Anyway, I tried to incorporate the classic Gregor Being in Love With Music and Showers, and I am already liking where this is going, so please Read and Review, and the next chapter will be up soon! Cya'll Later,**_

 _ **Rotting Hood, out!**_

 _ **By the way, please be brutally honest with me. I welcome hater comments, flames, and constructive criticism (flames are basically constructive criticism, right?). Again, this is my first actual FanFiction, and I want to know how I can improve. So, for reals this time,**_

 _ **Rotting Hood, out!**_


	2. The Drama of Love

Gregor finally arrived to King's Fork High School, when his watch read 7:43, and there were _very_ few people about. He recognized a few faces from last year, from Middle School (9th Grade) but didn't try to interact. Gregor was a social outcast, and had not made any attempt of even trying to build a friendship for three years, eleven months, and twenty-two days. Not even with his sisters. Speaking of which, Lizzie would most likely arrive within the next hour — by car —, but would travel into the King's Fork _Middle_ School Building.

Kings Fork was made up of four buildings, and a soccer/football field. There was the Middle School building, the High School building, the cafeteria, and the gym.

 _The gym._

Gregor always had an excuse for not participating in gym class. Usually something along the lines of "I'm sorry, but my legs are hurting and I can't run," or "I broke my hand over the weekend and unfortunately cannot play basketball." He came up with these excuses for only one, simple reason. It was because he was afraid.

He was afraid that if he starting exercising, that if he started working his body too hard, then the _Rager_ deep within him would awaken.

If you are a Rager, than it means that you are a _"Natural Born Killer."_ While being a Rager did help squeeze Gregor out of some tough spaces in the Underland, it was of absolutely no use in the Overland. Practically everyday, Gregor had these horrible fantasies of himself. Fantasies of himself, ripping his classmates throats out, caving their heads in, killing his family. The worst part though, was that the whole while, he would be laughing. Laughing and grinning so hard, it hurt. The grin, stretching from one side of his face to the other. The laughter, maniacal, terrifying. It was the sound an insane, disturbed, demented person made. It was excruciating. Gregor still remembered the day a certain rat, by the name of Twitchtip (who was one of the few gnawers he would trust with his life), told him that he was a Rager. He denied it at first, saying he was in no way a Natural Born Killer, but after a bit more time in the Underland, he realized Twitchtip was right. He was a Rager.

He was a danger to society.

Eventually, all of these terrible thoughts converging on his already-fragile mind, slowly came to a halt (as Gregor forced them to), as one of his "friends" from last year, walked up to him. Gregor looked at his watch. It was 8:48, he must have been day-nightmaring for much longer than he realized.

"Hey Gregor! How's life?" His friend Corey Graph said, walking up to Gregor. Corey was roughly 5 feet, 10 inches tall, - making him around two inches shorter than Gregor - and had dirty-blond hair, with bright, blue eyes. Actually, the _bright_ _est_ part of Corey was his mind. While Gregor was mainly street-smart, and had grades consisting of mostly _B's_ and _C's,_ Corey was more of a book-worm, and was a pure genius. Uncannily similar to Lizzie, who had skipped the entire sixth grade, and was now entering seventh. There was no doubt in Gregors mind that she would be smarter than everybody in the grade, even more intelligent than a few of the teachers, probably. What worried Gregor was Lizzie's ability to make friends. She had always been a bit awkward, and was now _extremely_ so. The only friend she had had, had been that creepy - uh . . . _special_ kid Jedidiah, but he was long gone now.

"Hey, man! Gregor, I asked you how it's going!" Corey said, not in rude, or mean way, Corey was very kind and friendly. Sometimes he could just get . . . _excited._

"It's okay." Gregor responded, in a low, dreary voice. While Corey was so full of hope, and life, Gregor didn't have any of it. He had never even tried to become friends with Corey, it just happened. In the eighth grade, some bully had shoved Corey into a locker, causing him to drop all of his books and papers (with 1 minute till class, too!), and then started to walk away, snickering to his cronies. Nobody even gave him a second glance. Gregor took pity on the boy, and helped him gather his belongings. Ever since then, he and Corey had been, unfortunately, best friends. Yay. . .

"Cool! So are you excited for school? I know I am. I already preordered my schedule, and yours too! That means we're the only kids here who already know what our schedules are. Pretty sweet, huh? Oh, right! I have yours right here, check it out!" Corey said, handing Gregor the slip of paper. See? _Excited._

"Thanks." Gregor mumbled, hesitantly. He looked down at his schedule.

 ** _Gregor Spearman_**

 ** _\- Monday - Tuesday - Wednesday - Thursday - Friday -_**

 ** _1st Period \- English - English - English - English - Robotics -_**

 ** _2nd Period \- Robotics - Science (life) - Robotics - Robotics - Science (life) -_**

 ** _3rd Period \- Science (life) - World Language - Science (life) - Science (life) - World Language -_**

 ** _Lunch -_**

 ** _4th Period \- World Language -World Language - History - World Language - World Language -_**

 ** _5th Period \- History - History - Math - History - History -_**

 ** _6th Period \- none (go to sports)- Math - none (go to sports) - Math - Math -_**

 ** _Sports (gym) -_**

"Oh cool! We have Robotics and Math together!" Corey exclaimed.

"You didn't know that?" Gregor asked, slightly bored, but a little curious.

"Of course not, I wanted you to look at the your schedule first. It is _yours,_ after all." He said.

"Oh. Thanks, I guess." Gregor said, not really caring. His watch read 8:58. Lizzie still had not arrived, his family probably got caught up in traffic or something. Or maybe she wouldn't even come. She did seem to look a bit ill last night.

The doors had opened around twenty minutes ago, and there were many people lingering in-and-outside. Gregor decided to go on in, as did Corey.

"Hey guys! Wait for me, please!" Spoke a voice as Gregor and Corey were heading in. Gregors watch displayed the time 8:59.

"Hey Sarah!" Corey said, as a girl by the name of Sarah Chute walked up to them. Interesting factoid, Corey had a _major_ crush on Sarah, and Sarah had a _major_ crush on Gregor. How unfortunate.

"Hi." Gregor sighed, Sarah Chute was a bit hard to deal with sometimes, she had too much energy. And Gregor had a feeling today would be a very energetic day, what with it being the first day back to school and whatnot.

"Hi Corey! Gregor." She said Gregors name in such a way, it made Gregor cringe inside. She said his name in such a dreamy, lovestruck, _creepy_ way, it made him want to puke.

Corey took notice of this, and, _immediately,_ became jealous.

"Duh, uh- I wa-was just t-t-telling, uh, Gregor here, um, uh, so-some interesting facts about-t dino-dinosaur-saurs." He stuttered. Gregor thought he noticed Corey holding his breath.

"Uh, cool." Sarah said, clearly not interested. Corey slumped. "So Gregor, how was your summer? Do anything interesting? Work out? Get a girlfriend, maybe?" She said this last part darkly, obviously hoping he would say no.

"No. Still single." Gregor replied, in short, simple sentences. He would be a master at talking to spinners. Spinners were the colossal spiders of the Underland, and humans spoke to them in short, simple sentences. This just happened to be the only way Gregor knew how to speak. The time was now 9:02. H was officially late. Great.

Sarahs face immediately brightened. "Aw, thats too bad," she said, probably ecstatic on the inside. Then she took notice of the time (fianlly). "OH CRUD! Ugh, I can't be late on the first day. See ya'll at the opening-school assembly!" She said, winking at Gregor, and then rushed away. Sarah was an odd girl. With a small, yet powerful frame, she was only 5 feet, 9 inches tall, she had practically golden eyes, and a mop of fiery red hair resting on her freckle-covered head. It often looked as if she was on fire. Corey sighed.

"What's wrong." Gregor asked, although he think he already knew.

"Well, it's kinda hard to explain." Corey said.

"Try." Gregor countered.

Corey straightened. "Okay, so. You know Sarah?" Corey asked, although he already knew he did. Gregor nodded. "Well, I- I really like her. A lot, ya'know?" Gregor nodded again. "Well, I don't think she likes me back, I think she likes this other guy, but I don't think he knows, and it's really disheartening. To not have her like me back." Gregor nodded once more.

"I understand." Gregor said softly, and he did! He knew just what it felt like to not be certain if somebody shared your feelings of love, and assumed it would only be one-thousand times worse if you were one-hundred percent _sure,_ they did _not_ like you back.

"You do?" Corey asked. Normally, Gregor would have just nodded, but he could see the mixture of emotions on his friends face. Disbelief, hesitation to trust, the longing to believe, sadness, and confusion. He really liked Sarah, apparently. Why? Gregor did not know, but he did know he had to make Corey feel somewhat better, which is why he said what he said, and decided to not nod, just this once.

"I do. And I can assure you, the guy she likes, does _not_ like her back." Gregor said, quietly, but firmly. And with that, he walked off to the assembly, leaving behind a stunned, speechless Corey.

The time was only 9:04

 _ **AUTHORS NOTE:**_

 _ **Aaaaaannnnd the second chapter is up! Thank you all for the kind reviews, and for pointing out my errors! I understand this chapter has a slightly rushed ending, but hey, I have an alibi. . . . I got tired. ANYWAY! I can assure you all that the next chapter will be available shortly, but it might take a day or two if I want it to be a really long, detailed one. Phew! I have newfound respect for authors. Writing is hard! Welp, until next time, Cya!** _

_**Rotting Hood, out!**_


	3. The Rager Awakens

_"That was probably the worst, most boring, speech in history,"_ thought Gregor, as he had walked away from the assembly, which had taken place in the cafeteria. Lizzie had never arrived, but Gregor didn't think that much of it. He personally thought she was lucky to not show up! The assembly was extremely long, and the uncomfortable chairs had taken a toll on his behind. Plus the whole time Corey had just been staring at him, mouth slightly ajar, and eyes widened. This probably wouldn't of affected Lizzie, but it made Gregor uncomfortable. He didn't think what he had said would have that big of an impact, but apparently Corey thought it to be outrageously difficult to comprehend. Odd.

Another problem - or person, depending on your view of things - Gregor had to deal with during the assembly, was Sarah. The whole time she had been staring at him, like Corey, but had also been doing some . . . other things. For example, every once in a while she would pucker her lips, stroke his thigh or bicep, or give the occasional moan or small squeak. While, normally, this would have turned any other guy on, it was absolutely disgusting, creepy, and completely inappropriate to Gregor. He had even started to have some more nightmare fantasies involving Sarah. Mostly just him ripping her tongue out of her head, and then using it to choke her.

Overall, the assembly was essentially a torture for children.

When the bell finally rung, and the monotone head-of-school finished his awful speech, the kids all ran to their respective buildings and periods, and the school day then really began. Well, it was actually more like the day of boring, dream-crushing, _teachers'_ speeches started.

Gregor had slept through it all.

While Gregor didn't actually fall asleep, he was very close to it. While it was okay to have Corey (still staring) in his Math and Robotics, and less so to have Sarah (who continued to flirt with Gregor) in his Science class, the whole day was teachers, basically, explaining the rules of the class, and handing out the syllabus of that certain subject. A few times, during class, though, he would notice a girl wink at him, or hear some guy snicker behind his back. Gregor didn't bother with them. He didn't bother with them, because, he just didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore, not since he left the Underland.

The day went by very slowly, and Gregor could not wait for it to be over _._ Especially during sixth period. The reason?

Sixth Period was gym.

Everybody had gym at the same time, but the boys and girls were separated into two different groups. While this may sound like a lot of people in one area, it didn't seem like it. There were roughly 60 people in the eleventh grade, and the gym was _colossal,_ you could probably fit one _hundred_ people in the room - Gregor still wasn't sure why the assembly was not located in the gym -, so there was still a fairly decent amount of space in the room.

Gregor wasn't sure what the girls were doing, and wasn't particularly inclined to find out, but he dreaded what the boys had to "learn". He had tried to avoid participating in the activity, but the coach had insisted, no matter how much Gregor had pleaded.

Gregor had walked up to the Coach . . . Tom, he thought it was, and, after introducing himself, explained (lied) why he couldn't take place in the sport.

"I'm sorry Coach Tom, but I just can't do this. My parents insist I don't go anywhere near those . . . _tools_." Gregor had tried to reason with the Coach.

"Relax, little feller!" he responded - apparently he _was_ Coach Tom, thankfully, Gregor didn't want the embarrassment of getting the Coaches' name wrong on his shoulders-, "I'm sure I could talk to them after the lesson. And besides, even if ya _do_ get in trouble, I can take the blame for ya! Whadd'ya say, buddy?" Coach Tom had responded, in his thick, country accent, trying to persuade Gregor to take place in the lesson.

"I am very sorry, but I ca-" Gregor was about to veer off into a firm speech, but was cut off by Coach Tom before he could say anything in his, dreary, menacing voice, that would usually make anybody either " _A,_ " depressed, or " _B,_ " back off. _Usually_.

"Hey, you can do this. There is no need ta worry, and besides, yer'll love it! I mean, who wouldn't? It's swordplay!" Coach Tom exclaimed, attempting to cheer Gregor up.

 _It didn't work._

Gregor didn't personally believe that having children fight with _swords_ was actually legal, but he decided not to say anything. He had already lost this battle of words.

As the boys started equipping themselves with their "armor (it was really just padding)," the adults started pulling out _real, metal_ swords. What kind of a school was this?! Did the teachers _want_ the children to kill themselves?! Did they find _joy_ , in watching teenagers fight to the death?! This had to be illegal. The only comfort Gregor had was that the coaches were carefully putting the swords into their scabbards, and then wrapping them in bubble-wrap.

It had to be the dumbest thing Gregor had ever seen.

His one comfort didn't do much though, compared to the countless of other _dis_ comforts. The largest one being what would happen if . . . if his rager side started acting up. The fantasies were already beginning to seep into Gregors mind.

When all of the students, including Gregor, were all "suited up," in leather padding, and what were probably, _plastic_ helmets, Coach Tom began his announcement.

"Alright everybody, remember, this is a very dangerous sport, and ya'll will need to be very, _very_ , careful, when participating in it. Remember, the government only allows us one week to teach ya'll swordplay per year, so we better make it count. Most of you know the basics from last year, but this year - er, _week_ , I should say, we will actually be _fighting_ with each other.  
Now, fer those o' ya'll who weren't here last year, raise yer hands." Gregor raised his hand, along with three other kids. He had remembered taking sword-fightin' lessons at his old school, for tenth grade, but the swords were cheap, and plastic, and Gregor had always convinced the coach to not let him play. "Okay, now, out of ye all, which of yer fellas have never played sword before?" All three of the other kids raised their hands, but Gregor did not. He thought about raising his hand, for a moment, but his rager side forced him not too. It wanted to fight, it wanted . . . _blood_. This was not going to end well.  
"Okay, three o' you, go over there, to Coach Kelli," Coach said, pointed towards the bleachers, where someone, presumably, Coach Kelli, was, "Gregor, come o'er here. I want ya to show me whatcha got."

This was _definitely_ not going to end well.

Gregor slowly walked towards Coach Tom, who was holding a sword out for him, completely trusting. It was nice, in a way, but awful, in another.

When Gregor reached Coach, he handed him the sword. Gregor was immediately reminded of the time Vikus, a kind old man, who had helped Gregor through some of his journeys in the Underland, handed him Bartholomew of Sandwich's sword, but Gregor had refused it then. Sandwich was the founder of the city of Regalia, and was one of the first people to have arrived in the Underland. He was actually the one who had carved out all of Gregors adventures, in prophecy form, along with countless others, in a small room, known as, The Prophecy Room. How original. Gregor, along with Ripred, a rat who had helped him in his adventures, both, personally, did not believe in the prophecies, but that was just them. Veering away from Sandwich, Sandwich's sword, on the other hand, was at a completely different level.

Beautiful, and deadly, it was probably the fiercest, most powerful sword Gregor had ever held in his life. And he's held a lot of swords.

Gregor had smashed it in half.

Lu . . . the princess, and Ripred had been arguing over who the warrior, Gregor, would fight for, when Gregor butted in. He had gotten mad, saying that they had just fought a war, and now they were about to have another one! It was ridiculous! In the end, Gregor destroyed the masterpiece of a sword, his exact words being -

 _"There. The warrior is dead, I killed him."_

. . .

Those were some good times.

All of a sudden, a voice brought Gregor back to reality.

"Gregor? Gregor!?" Coach Tom was saying, "Yers been standing there fer a minute now. You okay?" He held out the sword again.

Gregor nodded, and took the sword.

"Okay good. Lucas, get o'er here." Coach beckoned a kid over. "Gregor, this is Lucas, he was our best from last year, and I wanna see how well you can do against em." Lucas held out his hand, and Gregor shook it. It seemed like a nice-enough gesture at first, but then Lucas started squeezing. Hard. Gregor looked up at his face and saw a smug, spoiled brat stare back at him. Gregor immediately disliked Lucas, and would not give him the satisfaction of seeing him get hurt. So, Gregor squeezed back. Harder. He saw Lucas tremble, and then they let go of each other.

The course of these events lasted about four seconds.

"Alright! I want everybody to make a circle, and I want Gregor and Lucas on the inside o' it. On my count, they will spar, and when I blow my whistle, probably when one o' yers on the ground, the match will be o'er. Clear?!" Everybody nodded, and got into position.  
"Okay, the match between Gregor Spearman, and Lucas Crocker, will start in -"

"3!"

Gregors blood started to boil. He could feel the rager deep within him stirring.

"2!"

Gregor started to grin, a maniacal grin. Stretching from ear to ear.

"1!"

Gregor raised his sword.

"GO!"

Gregor lunged.

Gregor had to admit, Lucas had some skill, but Gregor was better.

Much, better.

Lucas managed to hold his ground, for about two seconds, when Gregor faked a shot to the chest, but then switched to his head. Lucas realized this just as Gregors sword made contact, and then Lucas fell to the ground, in a daze. Gregor could faintly hear Coach Tom blowing his whistle, yelling for them to stop, but Gregor paid it no mind. He just continued to beat Lucas, kicking him, swatting him with his sword, over and over again, as if he were but a mere fly. He could see some blood coming out of his mouth from under his visor. That just fueled Gregor on. He continued to beat Lucas, relentlessly, grinning from ear to ear, on the verge of laughter, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Gregor just turned around and punched whoever it was, in the face, without waiting to check and see who had actually tried to stop him.

It was Corey.

Corey simply lay sprawled on the floor, a faint drizzle of blood coming from his nose, which was clearly broken, and from his mouth. He probably had internal bleeding.

Gregor was horrified by what he had just done, and threw his sword to the floor, and started clutching his head, hating himself. He began to scream uncontrollably, gasping for breath. Everybody most likely thought he belonged in an asylum.

Gregor was having an internal battle with himself. His rager side saying he should kill everybody within sight, he easily could, but the more normal, caring Gregor was desperately trying not to. Trying to suppress the urge. He couldn't take it, he couldn't control it! It was overwhelming, the urge, the fantasies were flooding his head, it was all he could think of! Unsheathing his sword, killing his classmates, cutting open their chests, slowly picking off limbs.

He couldn't handle it, it was all too much! The girls had come over too, everybody was watching in horror the scene displayed before them. Nobody dared get near Gregor, afraid of what he might do to them. He was mental, insane, whirled up into a Frenzy! Everybody, including Gregor, was scared of him.

No, they were scared of the Rager. Gregor was a good person. Before the Underland, he was kind, he was normal, and he absolutely despised fighting. He loathed it. Every word for hate you could think of, Gregor felt that way towards fighting.

Gregor hated violence, and he, not the rager, but _he_ , was a good person.

Knowing this gave Gregor the strength to stop screaming, although he was left sputtering, speaking unintelligible, insane mumbles. He forced them to end.

Finally, straightened, Gregor barely managed to strut past the crowd of people, who immediately moved away when he neared them, creating a path for him to reach the door. They could see the pained, menacing, tired, and scared look in his eyes. Although his face was a blank slate, only his eyes, revealed his secrets.

And when he opened that door, that, wondrous door leading to the outside world, away from the gym . . .

He was met with fresh air, and did something that he had not done in three years, eleven months, and twenty-two days.

He abandoned his mask, for but a mere moment, and smiled.

 _ **AUTHORS NOTE:**_

 _ **And here is the third chapter. Pretty dark, huh? I might have to change this to a 'T' rating . . . I should probably do that right now, actually . . . eh. I'll do it later. Anyway, I want to give a special shoutout to Koipbuiop, for reviewing (twice), and for pointing out a few of my errors. I originally wanted to have something extra dark happen in either this chapter or the next, but after hearing, or reading(?) Koipbuiop's review, I decided to bring some of that darkness in on this chapter. I said some. There will be darker, more detailed chapters. Much more, dark and detailed chapters . . . Your welcome. Also, ya hear that people? If you review a few times, add some ideas, point out some errors, you'll get a whole few sentences dedicated to you! Woooaaah . . . amazing, right? - #sarcsasm - Moving on, the next chapter will be up shortly, probably within the span of three days (as will most every chapter), and I'm thinking of either doing it on something along the lines of Gregor being suspended, a news story on him, or basically him going to school, and getting shunned, or have like a million questions thrown at him. Review (key word there) on what you think would be best, but for the moment, Cya'll later peoples!**_

 _ **Rotting Hood, out!**_


	4. Worst Fantasy Yet

Gregor lay, sprawled on his bed, listening to _Welcome to my Life,_ by _Simple Plan_ , absolutely despising his second half.

The _rager_ half.

Gregor had left school about a half hour early, but he didn't think anybody cared. In fact, Gregor assumed that they were actually _glad_ he had left early.

When Gregor had arrived home, he was met with the typical, "Oh hi! How are you darling? Did you enjoy your first day of school?," from his parents, and he simply nodded in response, saying he was well. He thought, and _hoped_ his parents had not found out about his incident at school, and, when they didn't say anything, he assumed they had not. Thank god, he would not be able to deal with the conversation that would arise because of that right now. Gregor could still feel his blood bubbling, the rager still not fully gone.

Gregor had been about to go into his "room," when it happened.

 _The phone rang._

Many thoughts started rushing through his head.

 _"NO! THEY'LL FIND OUT ABOUT SCHOOL!" The kind, more peaceful Gregor was saying._  
 _"Relax," the Rager said, in its deep, snakelike voice. "You'll be fine, and even if it is the school calling your parents, we can just kill them."_  
 _"What?! No! They're my parents! I can't hurt them." The nice Gregor said._  
 _"Oh yes we can!"_  
 _"You mean you can! I can't, and won't."_  
 _"Heh heh heh," the Rager started laughing." We'll see about that, now won't we?"_

Gregor still wasn't sure which side had won the conversation.

His mother had picked up the phone, a big smile on her face. But sadly, after only a few seconds, that smile turned into a look of horror. And it was directed towards Gregor.

Kings Fork was _definitely_ calling.

"I-I see." Gregors mother, Grace, had said. "Why, yes, we understand. Oh, uh, ye-yes. We can, we can take him." _Pause_. "Okay, we will. Good day to you as well." His mother had set the phone down, and then sat in the nearest chair. She was stunned. She just stared at Gregor in fear, fear of what he had done. Suddenly, that fear turned to sadness. And then, anger.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!? YOU COULD HAVE KILLED THOSE BOYS!" Grace had screamed, tears flying from her face. Well, at least it was good to know he hadn't killed Corey. Lucas, on the other hand . . . "YOU! YOU! . . . ARGH! I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH YOU! THAT . . . THAT, PLACE RUINED US! IT, It Ruined our family . . . it ruined you . . ." Grace had started to weep, shoulders shaking, head in her hands. One part of Gregor was extremely sad, the other . . .

It was laughing.

Gregor was trying desperately not to, trying to keep his mask intact, but he just couldn't help himself! It was hilarious! Poor thing, bawling her eyes out! Gregor had never seen anything funnier!

Gregor was clutching his stomach, laughing uncontrollably. The whole family had come out of their respective rooms, and were staring at Gregor in shock. He had seen the scared look in his sisters' eyes. The understanding, anger and nervousness on his fathers face. Uncle Tom was outside, feeding the horses, so he wasn't in the room at the moment. But Gregor was sure he would be arriving inside shortly, and when he did . . . well, he'd probably be scared out of his wits.

"Wh-why are you laughing?" His mother hissed, face drenched.

"It's just so freakin' FUNNY!" Gregor had responded, tears of laughter coming to his eyes.

"You . . . monster . . ." Grace said. Gregor could see the sadness in her eyes. He had let her down, well, the rager did. But she didn't know about his other half! Everybody had kept his being a rager a secret from her, but Gregor guessed she would be finding out about soon enough. "Go . . . go t-to your ro-room." She weeped. Gregor had obliged, throwing his hands up, walking to his attic, chuckling to himself, giddy with joy.

And now, and hour later, his was anything but.

Gregor hated himself, and was pretty sure his family felt the same. His dad would probably be understanding, but still angry. His sister Boots would be horrifyed, and Lizzie, even more so. Uncle Tom may not know what was actually going on, but he Gregor knew he would be terrified, and would probably want him out of the house. Gregors mom though . . .

Yup. She hated him.

Every now and then, Gregor would have a little spasm of laughter, but they eventually subsided. Gregor had had enough of this rager thing, he despised that part of him. It was like that movie, _Me, Myself, and Irene._ Gregor was _Me_. The Rager was _Myself_. And Humanity was _Irene_. Gregor was peaceful, but the Rager deep within him was evil. It was a dangerous, mean, and horrendous creature. Gregor just wanted to be normal, be loved by humanity, not loathed by it!

Gregor didn't think anything could make his life worse -  
And then it got worse.

The largest, most detailed, fantasy yet, invaded Gregors mind. It was all he could think about!

Gregors dad had come knocked on Gregors "door," just to let him know he was there, he didn't actually enter. He was afraid, and Gregor didn't blame him. Gregors father had started speaking through his door.

"Uh, son. I am afraid you've been suspended for two weeks." His father said. No figure. Gregor had expected as much. "And, Gregor I just want to say that I love you. So, so much. But, uh, the school suggested it, and Grace and I agree. We are sending you to mental therapy." As soon, as he said this, Gregor heard him lock the door from outside, and then dash away. For a good reason, too! Therapy? THERAPY?! Who did his parents think they were?! His parents!? . . . oh, wait, Gregor guessed they actually were, but still! He didn't need therapy, he needed the Underland!

Gregor was furious, his rager side almost in full throttle, but with nothing to punch. And without anything to physically hurt, it decided to try causing mental pain. To what, you may ask?

Gregors mind.

At first, there were only a few fantasies, entering Gregors head very slowly. They were simply things, just punching, kicking, a few bloody noses. They were probably the least intense fantasies yet! But then, they started getting worse, and worse, Gregors twisted mind was creating thousands by the second! It was like watching millions of horror movies in a row, but you couldn't pause, or look away from the screen. It's very hard to, especially when the screen, is your own brain.

But, as terrible as the nightmare-fantasies were, nothing was as bad as the final, most intricate, and detailed one. It made Gregor wretch. If it was even possible, Gregor thought he was more scared of himself than before! The whole thing went down like this.

* * *

 _Gregor was walking down the halls of Kings Fork High. Everybody was staring at him, what were they looking at anyway?! Its not like Gregor was an alien, he was a normal human! Well, sort of._

 _A boy with dirty blonde hair and yellow eyes walked up to Gregor, held out his hand, and smiled, introducing himself as Jason Fletcher. Gregor took Jason's hand, and shook it. Unlike Lucas, Jason didn't try to break Gregors hand. Too bad, Gregor wanted a reason to hurt somebody. Oh well, he guessed he would just have do it the old school way._

 _No reason, no mercy._

 _Gregor gripped Jasons hand in a bone crushing squeeze, and could hear and feel the bones breaking._

 _"AHH! What the heck are you doing?!" Jason said. Gregor could hear the anger in his voice. It made him smile._

 _People had come over now, and were staring at Gregor in shock and horror. Again with the staring!? It made Gregor so angry! They needed to learn a lesson, all of them!  
_

 _It was school, after all._

 _Gregor took Jason's arm, and started to pull. Jason yelped in pain. The students, and now a few teachers, were closing in, trying to stop Gregor. But he did not want to be stopped. This would have to work quickly if Gregor wanted his plan to succeed. Gregor pulled again, harder this time! He heard something pop. Jason was in tears now, screaming in agony. The third time, Gregor pulled, but not in a quick, powerful yank. Gregor went very slowly, with tremendous strength behind his pull. Gregor could now feel, the tendons popping, flesh being pulled away from flesh. With one final yank, Jason's arm was ripped free of his torso. Jason crumpled to the floor, a hideous sight to behold. He would probably die if he didn't get medical attention soon. Oh well. Gregor didn't steal his arm just to hurt him._

 _Gregor stole it, because now . . ._

 _He had a weapon._

 _Gregor held the arm-sword out in front of him, holding the bicep part of it. He started to swing, and slash, and slaughter everybody he possibly could. While, granted, he was basically just slapping people, one good, powerful stroke to the head, could knock somebody out. And then, of course, a few kicks could leave them dead, or close to it._

 _For the third time today, Gregor abandoned his mask, and started to laugh, shoulders shaking. His grin covered nearly half his face. The few remaining conscious people stared at Gregor in terror, horrified by what he was doing._

 _Again? Again with the staring!? Oh . . . OH! Grr, Gregor would surely teach them a thing or two about staring._

 _"Did you know that it is rude to stare, hmm?" Gregor said, in a deep, serpentine voice. Wait, that wasn't Gregors normal voice. It was the Ragers voice! "Maybe you need to learn a thing or two about it. Go get an education, fools. Go to . . . SCHOOL!" Rager Gregor started cracking up, even harder than before! And with that, he abandoned his arm (Jason's arm, not his own), and rushed towards the final survivors. He took the emergency axe and fire-spray from the display case on the wall. You were only supposed to use them if it was an emergency, or if you were in danger. Now, while this didn't really qualify Rager Gregor, both applied to the few children left. Gregor threw the spray at one of the child's heads, knocking her out. Then he cut down two boys right where they were standing. And, finally, he threw the axe at a girl who was trying to run away, an hit her square in the back. Heh heh, he should enter an axe-throwing competition! He'd hit every human target!_

 _But, just then, probably the worst part of this whole nightmare, dream, fantasy thing, was when his family walked through the doors, and saw what he had done._

 _Rager Gregor was drenched in blood, and was holding an equally bloody axe. Makes you wonder. There were dead humans everywhere, surrounding him. Makes you wonder. Rager Gregor was grinning, laughing his eyes out. Makes you want to run away and hide._

 _Rager Gregors back had been turned to his family, but when he turned around, giddy, and full of glee, all of that happiness was immediately replaced with guilt, and shame._

 _The shocked, horrified looks on his family was enough to make him die right then and there, but he decided not to. Someday, when he old enough, he would return to the Underland, and then live a peaceful (well, as peaceful as can be) life there, and then die a happy man. Killing himself right now would be the opposite of all of that. Dream or no dream._

 _His family started to slowly turn away, trying to escape Rager Gregors wrath, but he didn't want them to leave! He needed to talk to somebody!_

 _"Wait!" Gregor called out. The real Gregor. He started running towards his family, about to embrace them. But then the Rager took control again.  
_

 _The next part was a blur, a daze! Gregor faintly recalled hearing screams, pleads, laughs, and seeing blood. Blood, everywhere._

 _And when Gregor came to, his family lay dead before his feet._

 _Gregor screamed._

* * *

 ** _AUTHORS NOTE:_**

 ** _And there is chapter four. Dark, yes I know, but it is necessary for some future things I have planned. Combining the wonderful reviews I got from a few select people (Koipbuiop, inferno746, and Melissa Waters), I have decided to go with suspension, and when Gregor goes back to school, him being met with fear and questions from his peers. The next chapter will be his first therapy lesson, and after that, it will be his first day back at school. Phew, one day at school and you already get suspended? If I was the head-of-school there, I would expel Gregor, especially for he had done to get suspended! That won't happen though . . . maybe . . . I'm not really sure where I'm going with this . . . ANYWAY! I'm going to go watch tv and eat pancakes, so for the meantime, Cya'll later meh peeps,_**

 ** _Rotting Hood, out!_**


	5. All Those Stories

Gregor was sitting in a very small, uncomfortable chair, which happened to also be in a small, uncomfortable room. Not as small as Gregors attic/storage room/ bedroom, but still small. The floors were a rich mahogany, and the walls were a light grey/purple color.

There was a bookshelf located directly behind Gregor, containing things like, _'Cures For The Mind,'_ and, _'The Complete Handbook of Depression.'_ To the left of Gregor was the door, and right in front of Gregor was a desk with a man at it. The man happened to be Gregors therapist, actually.

Mid thirties, early forties, the man had a clean shaven beard and short, blonde hair. He was wearing jeans, and a t-shirt on that said, _'Its better to get wet than to get swea_ t. _'_ Gregor had no idea what it meant, of course, but it was interesting (if that) non the less.

"So, Gregor, is it?" The man finally said. Gregor brought his thoughts back into the real world for a moment, and nodded. "Ah good, I see. Well Gregor, it is nice to meet you! My name is Christopher Linkhart, but you can just call me Chris. Everybody does." Chris introduced himself. He then held out his hand in a fist, and at first Gregor thought that he was going to punch him. But then he realized that Chris was just offering a fist-bump, so Gregor just weakly tapped it. When he did though, the weirdest thing happened.  
"Seriously?"

"Pardon?" Gregor asked, showing no signs of emotion, unless befuddlement counted. After his incident at school, and then at home, Gregor was infuriated with himself. Not for nearly killing some kids, and thinking about doing it to his family. No, Gregor was mad because his mask had cracked. All in one day, Gregor had laughed, smiled, laughed, smiled, and laughed some more. He had never done any of that over the course of almost four years! The shame.  
Speaking of Gregors home incident, after his laughing at his mothers obvious discomfort, his mother had simply blocked Gregor out of her life. She would refuse to speak with him, unless necessary, wouldn't look at him, and wouldn't do anything for him. Not that this changed anything. Gregor had ignored his mother for a very long time, and his mom didn't do much for him anyway. She was just too busy working. But still, it was sad. In a sense.

"Dude. You okay? You're kinda zoning out on me here." Chris said. Gregor snapped back to reality.

"What are you talking about?" Gregor questioned again, as dreary as the first time.

"Oh my god! Bruh." Chris responded. Okay, this was getting annoying.

"Please stop being confusing and weird and tell me what you're talking about." Gregor said, bored and perplexed.

"Oh. Well at least you have manners!" Chris said. "Well I trying to detect signs of emotion, and there were none. Does that help?"

"Not really."

"Ah well. You see, Gregor, I was testing you, in the sense that you could answer or fist-bump me with any emotion. And I detected none. You are clearly very, _very_ sad." Chris matter-of-factly told Gregor, finally explaining things. Gregor was silent at this. He wasn't stunned or anything, anybody could see that Gregor was very unhappy with his life. Gregor just didn't really know what to say to this stranger. When his parents were bringing Gregor to the lesson, he sort of just sulked in the back of the car, expecting some old codger to ask him random questions. Gregor could see now, though, that this would be anything but that.

"Okay then," Gregor said, after a moments hesitation. "And what are you going to do this with this information."

"Ohhhh no. Not me.'' Chris said. Okay, maybe _this_ guy needed a therapist.

"Excuse me?"

'You're excused!" Chris said, a huge grin on his face. Gregor stared. "That was a joke." Chris spoke after a few seconds. The smile turned to that of small frown. Gregor stared. "Laugh." He demanded. Gregor still stared. "Okay man, if this is gonna work you're gonna have to at least chuckle at my jokes." Chris said. Gregor gave a weak, depressing chuckle. " _Oh my god._ You are so _boring_! Okay, I'll be straight with you now. Like I said before, I tried to detect signs of emotion, and there were none! So now, you and I, not me, but both of us, will work hard to fix you. But before that happens, you have to open up to me. So, every time you come here, I will tell you story, and then you will tell me one. And remember, these stories have to be very emotional, personal, and private. Got it?"

"Okay, but uh . . . I don't exactly feel comfortable revealing that kind of information to a stranger."

"Relax, man! I'm not some psycho." Chris said.

"Wouldn't be too sure of that." Gregor mumbled.

"What was that."

"Oh!" Gregor perked up. "I said 'Sure Thing!'"

Chris was silent for a moment. "Okay then. Why don't you go first!" Gregor was silent. "Alright. I'll go." Chris took a deep breath. "When I was younger, I was in love with a girl. Let's call her Sarah!"

"I know a girl named Sarah."

"Oh, cool! Well, anyway, we met in preparatory,school, and formed an instant bond. But I only thought of her as friend. One day though, we were hiking, and I tripped and fell into a gorge, breaking my leg in the process. Sarah dived in after me, nearly breaking her foot in the process. She formed a makeshift splint for my leg — she was applying for medical school, so I guess that's how she knew how to make it — and legit _dragged_ me out of the mini-canyon, and got me home all within 4 hours. And that's how I came to love her.

Gregor nodded, taking this all in, knowing that he would offend Chris if he said nothing. And to be honest, he _wanted_ to say something! Secretly, Gregor loved telling stories, but the thing was, all his stories were about the Underland, and he could never explain that to any random guy. Gregor decided to tell a half-truth.

"Ok. I too, was in love when I was younger. My father, baby sister and I were taking a vacation, but we accidentally got on the wrong train. It took us to a really low, shady place. Filled with hate, betrayal, murderers, and crime. We stayed at an almost castle-like hotel, and it was there that I met her. Even though I was only twelve, I knew what it was immediately.

"What was it?" Chris asked, completely engrossed.

"Pure hatred." Gregor said straight-faced.

"What!" Chris groaned. "I thought you said you loved her.

"I did. But I hated her at first." Gregor said, no expression. "The hate blossomed into love."

"Well what happened next? Please, I gotta know. I'm a total romantic! I'm a sucker for it!" Chris pleaded.

"Next time." Gregor said. "Well, as fun as this was, I have to leave now."

"But it's only been like forty minutes. We're only like half way through with the lesson. Don't you want to get to know this beautiful mug better?" Chris said.

Gregor moaned. "Not necessarily. Good day, Chris." With that, Gregor stood up, and left Chris to his own devices.

* * *

After Gregor had exited the room, he had to roughly a half hour before his parents arrived to pick him up. Which was fine with Gregor, by the way. It just left him to his thoughts, and, while they can be the most terrible thing in the world, they can also be the best. Luckily, Gregor didn't have any of his nightmare fantasies, so he could just relax. He hung around the lobby, which contained a vending machine, a row of chairs, a sofa, a front desk, and very little people. Gregor could see out of the corner of his eye the pimply, teenage clerk playing on his _ipad-mini_. He was gonna get fired. Gregor fell back into the surprisingly comfortable sofa, and shut his eyes. It was actually quite relaxing. Peaceful, even. At least, until he opened, and then locked, eyes with the very person he had almost killed.

And it wasn't Lucas.

"Corey?" Gregor questioned. He stood up, and started to walk towards him, but then Corey started to back away. His friend had a medical wrap around his head, and a bloody bandage on his nose. He looked quite frightened.

"Ge-get away from m-me." Corey stuttered, as he always did when nervous.

"Corey, I'm sorry I hurt you, I really am. But -" Gregor started to monotonically state, but was cut off.

"No! No, I-I don't-t wan-t-to he-hear it." He sputtered. "Ju-just, leave me a-alo-alone. Freak!" Corey rushed out the doors, and ran across the street. He made a left, went behind a building, and then Gregor couldn't see him anymore. The clerk had looked up for a moment, but had then shrugged and went back to his game.

 _"Well that's no good."_ Gregor thought to himself. He contemplated going after Corey, but then decided to not. If Corey didn't want to be near Gregor, then he wasn't going to complain! Corey was nice, and even with his weird quirks Gregor did honestly like him! But no matter what, Gregor would always, _always_ , pick solitude, than outwardness. Although personally, Gregor thought Corey was overreacting. Lucas, sure! He brought the pain hard. But with Corey, all he did was deal a heavy-duty punch to the face! The floor honestly did the most damage when Corey fell.

Oh well. Gregor went back to his chair and sunk into it, gracefully falling into a peaceful slumber . . . that was immediately interrupted by a nightmare.

 _Gregor was back in New York, and was walking through Central Park. A blizzard had recently hit, so not many people were out. The trees had a beautiful layer of white fluff on their leaves, and you could hear the birds' harmonic singing. The whole scene was absolutely stunning. Beautiful. Peaceful. Free. Gregor breathed a big breath, and hid his smile behind his scarf. While current-day Gregor would hate smiling, this new, interesting dream Gregor didn't seem to mind. In fact, this Dream Gregor seemed to have a whole aura of excitement, giddiness, grit, happiness, you name it! Coming off of him. Just then, a rustling could be heard in a nearby shrub._

 _Suddenly Dream-Gregor was gone, and Real-Gregor was in control. Gregor tensed. After such a history with the Underland, the slightest thing could make him ready for combat. The rustling grew louder, and Boots crawled out! Little baby Boots, only a few years old._

 _"Aw, hey baby." Gregor cooed. No matter what happened, Gregor would always have a soft spot in his heart for Boots. "How'd you get all the way out here?" At first Boots just giggled, but then she started speaking._

 _"You." She said in a terrifying voice. The same voice as Rager-Gregor, in fact! The voice was so intense, it was all Gregor could hear, could focus on! It cut through his mind, like a hot knife through butter. "You left me here. You abandoned me, to rot!" Boots, and Rager-Gregor, said the final word with bitter resentment._

 _"Gah!...this is weird." Gregor exclaimed._

 _"You hated me, and you wanted to be rid of me, so you threw me out. Like garbage!" It spat._

 _"No, Boots. I swear! I did no such thing! I would never leave you!" Gregor shoved the words out of his mouth._

 _"Maybe. Maybe you wouldn't leave me" Boots/Rager-Gregor said. "But you would kill me."_

 _"Kill? Never!"_

 _"Never, you say? Think again." Boots/Rager-Gregor grew wet and sticky. Gregor looked down and saw a huge mass of red, leaking from Boots/Rager-Gregor's shirt. His hand had stuck a knife in her throat._

 _"What!? No! NO!" Gregor screamed. "I can't!"_

 _"You have." Boots/Rager-Gregor gargled, blood trickling down **its** chin. "You're a killer, and that's all._

* * *

Gregor was in the passenger seat of his Uncle's Pickup Truck, arms crossed. When he woke up from his horrifying slumber, he checked his phone to see that his father had left him a message, saying that he had to take Lizzie to the doctor, and that his Uncle Mike was going to pick him up. About thirty minutes later, he saw his uncle's truck pull into the parking lot. Gregor rose from his chair, stretched, and walked out. Gregor had gotten into the car, said a brief "Hello" to his uncle, and then what proceded was an awkward silence.

There was still about ten minutes until arrival at Gregor's home, when his uncle spoke.

"So . . . you get angry, huh." His Uncle said awkwardly. "You're like the hulk!" Uncle Mike tried making a joke, but it just didn't work.

"I guess." Gregor kind of muttered.

"Yeah..." Uncle Mike said.

Silence.

More Silence.

"How was the lesson?" Uncle Mike asked.

"It was all right."

"Ok. How was your therapist? Some old guy boring you to death?" Uncle Mike smiled. Gregor did not.

"Actually it was just some thirty-forty year old guy in a t-shirt, telling stories."

"Oh. Interesting. Boy do I have some stories." Uncle Mike said.

"Oh there's really no need for you to tell me th—" Uncle Mike cut Gregor off.

"When I was in collage," Uncle Mike started, "My friend Bill and I once went into a bar. We kept on drinking and drinking, and eventually I had to use the lou. I asked Bill if had to go, but he just said 'Nah man. I'm good!' So I went to the restroom. When I came back, wanna know the first thing he said to me?"

"Not rea—"

"He said, 'Mike I gotta use the toilet. Come with me.' Unbelievable. I told him, 'No, you gotta go on your own.' He didn't want to be by himself, for whatever reason is unbeknownst to me, so he just sat there. Until he started unzipping his pants. Now, my first reaction was along the lines of, "HOLY SHI—"

"Uncle Mike. The language?" Gregor said.

"Oh, right. Sorry." He apologized. "Anyway, my second reaction was much worse, when he started _peeing under the counter!_ I laughed so hard! . . . oh boy . . ." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, chuckling. We reached the barn. I immediately got out and walked to the front door. Right before I shut the door though, my Uncle spoke up again.

"Do you know why I told you _that_ specific story, Greg?" Nobody ever called him Greg.

"No."

"I just wanted you to know. It's _okay_ to laugh. It's okay to laugh at the crazy things in life. The bad, naughty things. The sad things. The scary things. Laughing is good, and I - I . . . I wish that you would more." He said, solemnly.

Gregor thought about this for a moment. "Okay." He said after a moments hesitation. "Yeah, alright . . . I'll, I'll try."

And he shut the door.

* * *

 **Dang. It's been a while since I've written anything. I've redone this chapter so many times I've lost count. A few times it didn't save, a few times I just wasn't happy with the way I portrayed the characters, but hey, whatever! By the way, if you're wondering why I said that Gregor got on the wrong train, I was going to say airplane, but I didn't think it was realistic that somebody would board the wrong plane. Anyway, sorry for the long pause. I wasn't feeling necessarily inspired. But I'm back, and it's summer! Woo-Woo!...I regret saying that already. Well, I'll be trying my best to post chapters, but granted I'm leaving for Nantucket tomorrow soooo...I'm not sure how that'll go. Well, IM NOT DEAD, so I'll be writing and writing! And also I know Gregor and Chris' stories were pretty short, and some parts of this chapter seemed a little fast-paced, but it's like 10:00 PM so...**

 **Rotting Hood, Out!**


	6. No Promises

**Corey's POV**

* * *

After seeing Gregor in the lobby when I showed up to my therapy lesson (which was about Gregor, mostly), I was horrified. I knew that he didn't mean to hurt me, and that the floor did the most damage, but still! Just seeing him, mercilessly slaughtering, _torturing_ Lucas's limp body, it was too much for me. I was afraid he would get angry again, and that he would hurt me. Especially after calling him a freak. So I ran out of the building, skipping my lesson. I made a left, and went into the alley between _Mel's Hotdogs_ and _Target,_ thinking I would take a shortcut home. _But there were people there._

There were of three of them, in total. They had really odd, medieval clothing, and they all had swords and daggers hanging from their waistline. But it wasn't the clothes I was focused on. They had beautiful, purple eyes, but were deathly pale. Like _Voldemort,_ in a way. But what was really creepy, was that you could see the veins sticking out of their skin. It was more repulsive than scary, to be honest.

"Crap!" I yelled. I tried to turn around, but one of the figures was in my way. "What do you want?" I asked. "I have money, here take my watch! It's antique!" It wasn't, but _they_ (probably) didn't know that.

"We do not want anything," one said. "Just promise us you will not tell a single soul of this experience, undertsood?"

"Got it! I promise!" I hurriedly shook my head up and down. Probably not the best idea since my skull had been recently injured, but I endured the headache that followed. "I'll just make my leave then! Heh heh . . ."

"Wait one moment." Another person spoke. "We have tracked the warrior to this town. Do you happen to know any warriors?"

Warrior? That was new. "Uh . . . no?"

"Useless." He said. Rude.

"Wait." The final person said. This voice was kinder, gentler. And the man speaking looked so as well. "Anastas, he _retired_ from his warrior position, perhaps this child knows him by his birth name?"

"That is quite a possibility, Mareth." Anastas said. These people had very odd names. Where were they from? And who was this warrior they kept referring to? "Very well. Have you, by any chance, ever came across someone by the name of, _Gregor Spearman_?"

* * *

 **3rd-Person Gregor**

Sunday. Tomorrow Gregor would have to go back to school, a week behind, and a total outcast. Not that he wasn't already so, but just more of one now. His father had taken Lizzie back home from the doctor yesterday, saying that it was just a strong fever. Lizzie was on the coach right now, and Gregor was in the kitchen, making a peanutbutter sandwich for her.

"Hey Gregor." Lizzie called from the other room, a slight rasp to her voice.

"Yeah?" Gregor said, walking in, PB&J in hand. He gave it to her.

"Thank you."

"Welcome."

"So. Uh." She mumbled.

"Whats on your mind." Gregor asked.

"Fine. Well, can . . . can I tell you something." Lizzie seemed oddly sad.

"Of course." Gregor said, concerned. Just like Boots, Gregor cared deeply for his sister. Even though they rarely spoke, or even _saw_ each other anymore, Lizzie was still one of Gregors favorite people.

"Well yesterday, some stuff happened." This was sudden.

"Like, what?"

"I sorta discovered something . . ." Why was Lizzie being so vague?

"Tell me." Gregor said.

"I-I uh . . . Well I don't actually have . . . I mean, what I'm trying to say is that — instead of . . . GAH!" Lizzie yelled, slamming her fist into the soft leather of the sofa.

"Whoa! Hey, hey it's okay. You can tell me what's on your mind." Gregor sat down next to Lizzie. "It's fine. You can talk to me. About anything."

"Look. It's . . ." Lizzie took a deep breath and sighed. There was a slight tremor in her shoulders. "I got a bad grade."

Gregor was surprised. Lizzie never did bad in school, but it was also weird that she would make such a big deal out of this. "Well hey, that's alright. Are you scared of telling Mom, or Dad?"

Lizzie hesitated. "Yeah, a bit."

"Ok then, well, whenever you're ready, you can tell them, and I'll be right there, holding your hand."

"Thanks Gregor. That means a lot to me." Lizzie gave a small smile.

"No problem, Liz." The smile grew, as Gregor ruffled her hair, standing up.

"Hey!" Lizzie laughed. Gregor didn't, but then thought back to what Uncle Mike said, and allowed himself a small grin. "You're smiling?!" Lizzie gasped, astonished. "I didn't know such a thing was possible."

"Yeah. Yeah I am." Gregor said softly. "You want me to get that plate for you?" Gregor asked, changing the subject.

"Uh, yeah sure. Thanks!" She said.

"No problem." Gregor responded, taking the plastic plate from Lizzie's hands, all traces of the PB&J gone. "Wow. You really devoured that, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Lizzie smiled. "I shouldn't though." She darkened at this last thought.

"Why not? You okay?"

"Uh — yeah, it's nothing." She said.

"Okay." Gregor said, slightly suspicious. Well, actually, _really_ suspicious. She obviously was not telling him something.

Gregor left the living room, and entered the surprisingly spacious kitchen. It wasn't the best kitchen/dining room, but it definitely wasn't the worst. Just a fridge, stove, two ovens, and a sink and dishwasher. There was also a round, wooden table in the corner, and a pretty nice bar. All with granite counters. There was also a pantry next to the fridge, and some relatively good lighting. Gregor threw the plastic plate into the trashcan, and then sat at the counter, thinking.

Gregor was contemplating something. His uncle had asked him to laugh more, but . . . Gregor didn't necessarily want to. He allowed himself to smile at his sister, but that was all he was willing to do. Was he? His uncle had so kindly offered his house and barn to Gregors family, which was also his, to be honest, and he hadn't even asked anything of them! Not to help with taxes, not to work the barn, nothing! The least Gregor could do was open up. _But what was the most he could do?_

And that's when inspiration struck.

* * *

Gregor stood in his Uncle's barn, teeming with horses, goats, and hay. The chickens and pigs each had their own separate holding pens. Why Gregor's uncle had so many animals (and how he could afford them) was beyond him, but what Gregor _did_ know, was that someone had to take care of them. He had already gathered the eggs in the chicken coop, and fed the pigs, now all that was left was to . . . do something . . ? Gregor decided that the first order of business was to water the mules, no need to feed since they all had hay. But how? There was a hose behind the house, and some buckets with it. Maybe Gregor could fill the buckets, place them in the pens, wait for the animals to empty them, and then repeat! Switching to different pens each time, of course. Gregor set to work right away.

At first it was pretty easy, the animals were quite calm. But near the end though, there was just this one horse. And it was huge! Gregor very slowly entered the pen, and the horse immediately turned and looked at him straight in the eyes. A giant, the horse was pure muscle, and pitch black, with a strip of white on its front right leg, and the top of its back. It's eyes were a luxurious green, filled with intelliegience, and a ruthlessness that almost surpassed Gregor's. Gregor set the water bucket down, and moving at a snails pace, pushed it towards the horse. It watched him the whole time. After a minute or so, the horse dipped its head into the water and started drinking, eyes still on Gregor. Gregor took a small step back towards the door, and the horse's head rose. They locked eyes, and you could cut the tension with a knife. The horse seemed to sizing Gregor up. Judging him.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the horse snorted, almost as if it was granting Gregor permission to leave (and it probably was), and then went back to its water. With all the other horses and goats, Gregor had waited for it to finish drinking, and then he would take the bucket back, refill it, and then use it again. This time, though, Gregor simply let the beast have it.

As Gregor left the pen, he breathed a sigh of relief. Even though the horse was probably just looking at Gregor, it seemed to be trying to _communicate_ with him. Odd. Anyway, Gregor want back to giving all the other animals water, and was going to let them all out for a walk, too, but then he noticed it was almost sunset. This was taking longer than expected. Gregor decided he would walk the animals tomorrow. Although, he wasn't really sure what to do the towering black one. And also, where was Uncle Mike? Gregor thought for sure he would cross paths with him throughout the barn, but maybe not.

"I wonder how fast that horse could go at a full-speed-gallop." Gregor wondered aloud. Gallop. Even though the horse probably already had a name like _Thunder_ , or _McQuene_ , Gregor was going to call him _Gallop_.

"Hear that, bud?" Gregor said, looking at the Gallop over the wood fence. Gallop stopped drinking. "Your new name's _Gallop_."

Gallop snorted.

"Alright then. Night, Gallop."

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?" A voice asked. Gregor turned his head as he shoved the barn doors shut. His eyes narrowed to slits as he looked at the figure, the sun directly behind them.

"Uncle Mike?" Gregor said.

"Well I sure hope so." He said. "I'm wearing his underwear, after all." Uncle Mike chuckled at his own joke. Gregor just gave an awkward smile, cringing more than anything. "Ah." Uncle Mike exhaled. "I see you decided to try smiling."

"I guess so. What do you mean, 'what am I doing?'" Gregor asked.

"Well I just thought you might be one of the few family members, other than your Pop, to actually start helping. But unlike your Dado, I thought that you were only helping because you thought that if you did this, you wouldn't have to grant the one thing I asked of you, and start smiling more."

That was actually, the exact reason! Wait. His uncle had said, "Thought." Did he not anymore? Gregor decided to go along with this theory.

"And you don't anymore?" He asked.

"Oh no." Uncle Mike said. "I still have very firm suspicions. But since you just obviously grinned just to appease me, they have been dimmed."

"Okay." Gregor said, hesitantly. "I was just watering the horses and goats, and I was about to go get some dinner. Originally I was going to walk them but—"

"No need. I walk all the mules in the morning. And feed them then, too."

"So was I not supposed to water them?" Gregor asked.

"It's not necessary, but it doesn't hurt. I should probably let them drink _more_ , to be honest. Especially Jessie. All the other animals I walk, but her, I _ride!_ I mean, she's colossal!" Uncle Mike exclaimed.

"Wait." Gregor started. "Is Jessie entirely black, with some white on his front right leg and back?" Gregor asked.

"You know it!" Uncle Mike said. "Although, Jessie's a girl."

"Really?" Gregor thought for sure it was a male.

"Yeah."

"Huh." Gregor said. "I called her Gallop."

"Gallop." Uncle Mike seemed to be mulling this over. "I like that. Jessie will always be Jessie to me, but it might be interesting to hear you calling her Gallop.

"Maybe." Gregor said.

"Oh by the way, how did you water all the animals, anyway?" Uncle Mike asked.

"I just filled some buckets with water, and then alternated hydrating the animals with them."

"How so."

"I just went into their pens, and sat there until they finished drinking, and then I refilled the bucket, and repeated."

"Rinse, wash, repeat." Uncle Mike muttered. "Wait, you went into Jessie's —or I guess Gallop's —stall, and _didn't get trampled?_ Uncle Mike asked, astonished.

"Yeah, and?" Gregor said, a little blank-faced.

"Amazing." Uncle Mike gasped. Apparently Uncle Mike thought this was the most incredulous thing in the world.

"Why?" Gregor asked, curious, and a bit freaked.

"Well, I'm just saying, the first few times I approached Jess, or Gallop, she totally ran into me. One time I had to visit my chiropractor because she hurt my back so bad, and I found out that she had broken a rib!" Uncle Mike said, smiling. "Total honesty, I actually laughed pretty hard. My chiropractor — Tim, I think his name was — probably thought I was insane!"

"What happened to him?" Gregor asked.

"Tim? Oh nothing. He just moved to Georgia. I think Blueridge."

"Interesting."

"So." Uncle Mike said.

"So?" Gregor responded.

"Nothing. Uh, you should get some rest."

"Okay." Gregor said slowly. He looked around, and saw that it was indeed a bit dark. Gregor brought his wrist to his face, and read the time on his watch. "Wow. 10:33."

"We must've been speaking for a while." Uncle Mike said. "Let's go inside. Lest the mosquitoes suck all the blood outta us!" Uncle Mike joked.

"Let's." Gregor agreed, suddenly much more aware of the buzzing in the air. It was interesting, how if you weren't thinking of something, you would hardly notice it.

"Hey, Greg!" Uncle Mike yelled, already halfway to the porch. "You coming or what?"

"Right." Gregor said to himself. He quickly jogged up to Uncle Mike.

"What're you thinking about, anyway?" He asked.

"Oh, nothing." Gregor said. "Nothing at all . . ." He spoke softly during this last part. Uncle Mike didn't seem to hear.

"Well. Here we are kiddo." Uncle Mike said as they walked up the front steps of the porch. Where was here, exactly? It was just the door. "Dinnertime. The worst meal of the day."

Gregor raised his eyebrows.

"Well, you see," Uncle Mike began, answering Gregor's silent question, "breakfast is the best meal. There's toast, eggs, waffles, _pancakes._ Lunch is second-best. During Lunch you can get hotdogs, burgers, sandwiches, chips! And finally, there's dinner. Which is where we're at. Dinner is the worst, because of the obvious reasons. All you're allowed to eat are salads, steaks, chicken, pork, barbecue. It's awful! And don't even get me started on the appetizers!" Uncle Mike finally finished.

"That was very unnecessary and unreasonable information." Gregor said.

"Maybe, but it's how I think. It's sorta like the beginning of the day starts out amazing, but then it all goes to garbage." Uncle Mike said.

They were both silent for a moment, standing on the porch.

"What about dessert?" Gregor finally said.

"Huh?"

"Well, dessert is part of dinner. Once you finish the trash set in front of you, you're finally granted the good stuff." Gregor said.

"Wow. I've never thought of it like that." Uncle Mike went quiet.

"Yeah. So it's like you said." Gregor said. For some reason, he felt really open with Uncle Mike, and was surprisingly not as reserved with him. "The beginning of the day is great, or whatever, then everything flops, until the absolute end, when everything is ten times better than it originally was."

"Hmm. That's true." Uncle Mike said. He turned towards Gregor. "You know, you're a pretty smart kid, Greg."

"Thanks, I guess." Gregor suddenly felt slightly self conscious. Although he didn't show it, Gregor hated it when people talked about him, _even in good ways_ , and especially hated talking about himself to other people.

"No really, I mean it." Uncle Mike said. "You're a pretty cool kid, but you hide behind this weird veil or whatever. With my natural charisma and laid back attitude," he joked at this part, "I've never really had trouble talking to people, or getting them to talk to me. Even you! But I've seen you with other people before. When your with me, or your sisters, your pretty fine, but if not, you get all reserved, and depressed! You need to get out there, and live your life! _Properly_." Before Gregor could respond Uncle Mike opened the door and went inside.

Gregor stood there for a minute or two, thinking about what Uncle Mike had said.

"I could try," he said quietly to himself, "but no promises."

* * *

 **Cha-Ching! Chapter Six, complete! (level up!) This chapter was mainly just dedicated to getting some insight on Uncle Mike, and how his and Gregors relationship is evolving. I know in Chapter four or three or whatever, I said that this chapter would be his first day at school, but I really, _really_ wanted to do a Corey POV. So I _promise_ the next chapter will be Gregors first school day. And also, a shoutout (and answer) to Koipbuiop (my very favorite reviewer), last chapter was when I first had Uncle Mike speak, or introduce him. But I have talked about him in past chapters, although I might've accidentally called him Uncle Tom in chapter two or three . . . I should fix that . . . whatever. There's some background stuff on Uncle Mike in Chapter One, and he's mentioned in Chapter Four. And finally, I don't think I've talked about Gregors Echolocation yet. So, I have a question. When should I introduce the echolocation? Should it be in the next chapter, the next few?**

 **Last chapter I totally forgot to do my whole "Cya'll" routine! I'm so out of it. Anyway, because of my failure of forgetting to say "Cya," I will say Cya twice in this chapter. So—**

 **Cya'll meh peeps! And Cya, at that!**

 **Rotting Hood, out!**


End file.
